


the boy in the palace

by msaudreyanne



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Eventual Fluff, F/M, Idk tags are hard, Minor Angst, magic?, movie-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msaudreyanne/pseuds/msaudreyanne
Summary: Basically, a short one-shot about how Dmitry is the only Russian immune to Rasputin's Romanov Curse.
Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry/Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	the boy in the palace

As a boy, working at the palace wasn’t easy. It seemed like every move he made would result in Dmitry being scolded by some adult. It was enough to drive him insane.

But then he remembered what it was like for the short time that he lived on the streets after his father was taken and maybe he didn’t mind having someone look out for him…no matter how harsh they might show it.

After the ball that Rasputin crashed – the staff talked about it for weeks, but all Dmitry remembered was seeing _her_ glow in all of her finery – rumors of unrest began to seep into the palace.

He didn’t know this at the time, but Rasputin’s curse was feeding the unhappiness. He witnessed on multiple occasions even the most loyal of palace staff not-so-discreetly sneaking off with different objects of value from throughout the palace. Dmitry never had such urges, despite knowing all too well what life outside of the palace meant.

Even then, he couldn’t really begin to fathom what was to come.

When the palace was sacked, Dmitry remembered hiding in the servants’ tunnel. He figured he could stay there until the chaos subsided and then figure out a plan. That was until he heard her frantic voice, searching for the music box the Dowager Empress had given her.

_Why would she risk it all for this? Didn’t she know what was at stake?_

Suddenly, the Dowager’s voice joined hers in the room. Dmitry could also hear the shouting getting closer to their location. He made up his mind and revealed himself to the pair and directed them to take the tunnel out to safety. He would distract the soldiers long enough for them to escape.

He got one last look at her Romanov blue eyes before they were gone forever, leaving him to fend off grown men who had no qualms about knocking out a ten-year old boy.

* * *

Years later, Dmitry tried not to think too long on his time at the palace. The life of a Russian conman didn’t allow for day dreams about princesses.

That is, until the rumors started circulating.

He ignored the ache in his chest at the thought of Anastasia. He had hoped his efforts that night had been successful and that she was alive and well outside of this god forsaken land. But he’d heard only the Dowager had made it to Paris and then he tried to busy himself with whatever object was closest to him.

Still though…ten million rubles was ten million rubles. Dmitry wouldn’t mind learning what life was like when food wasn’t a constant worry. If they could just find someone that they could mold into Anastasia…

A Russian street rat couldn’t afford to feel guilt, even if it meant taking advantage of an old, heartbroken woman.

Dmitry also happened to have the winning ticket to convincing the Dowager Empress in his rucksack. The music box that Anastasia had been so determined to save the night everything went to shit had been dropped on the floor in their haste to leave. Dmitry had found it when he’d come to the next morning.

For the longest time – way before discussions of lost princesses and reward money – he fought with himself over what should be done with it. Logically speaking, he could have pawned it or sold it on the black market. He’d have been able to eat for a year without worrying. Perhaps he’d have even had enough money to be able to leave the country before the borders finally sealed.

But then his heart would war against his mind. This was important to Anastasia, for some reason. Therefore, it was important to him.

Once the rumors surfaced, it was a sign that maybe his heart had been onto something. Not that he believed (or hoped) Anastasia lived. He was fairly certain if the Bolsheviks caught up with her, she’d be in the same state as her parents and siblings.

That thought alone was enough to ruin his appetite for the day.

* * *

Anya was the first person to cause Dmitry to seriously reconsider his life as a conman. Not because he wanted to do better. No, Anya was so infuriating and obnoxious that Dmitry found himself questioning if ten million rubles was really worth all the trouble. She always needed to have the last word with him.

Some days, he wondered if she was on to the true nature of their scheme and that she’d be the one to murder him before the Bolsheviks got a chance.

But Anya was also incredibly quick-witted. She kept him in check. She loved to challenge him in ways no one had ever done before.

She also happened to have eyes that were eerily similar to the pair that haunt his dreams every night.

Dmitry shook himself from those thoughts. Anya might’ve been a convincing Anastasia, but he couldn’t find it in himself to hope that the real Anastasia had survived all of these years. It would be too sweet; a fairytale come true. Definitely something a conman like himself didn’t deserve.

He wasn’t entirely sure he deserved anything good at this point. He replayed the disappointment in Anya’s eyes as he pulled away from their dance. For a moment, he had allowed himself to travel to another time; another place. He was back at the ball all of those years ago, only this time he was able to ask Anastasia to dance. There were no rules and restrictions on the youngest princess dancing with the kitchen boy here.

Internally, he agreed with Anya when she said she was feeling a little dizzy. It was all overwhelming to his bruised and tattered heart.

Later that night, as they all attempted to sleep as the waves threatened to break the Tasha in two, Dmitry couldn’t help the odd sensation that creeped up on him.

It was like thoughts were trying to enter his mind. Dark thoughts… _Angry thoughts_. All of which were directed at Anya.

They barely registered in his mind though, before they left. _Good_ , his heart said. There was no room for such things within him.

Then Pooka was there, barking incessantly. Dmitry finally woke up, but his blood ran cold as he realized Anya wasn’t in their room.

He threw himself out into the hallway and up the stairs, desperately calling for her as he fought the storm and sea. His heart nearly gave out seeing her toe the edge of the ship. Without much thought involved, he flung himself from the crows’ nest and just managed to grab her before she fell into the dark waters below.

She fought him for a moment and it was clear to Dmitry that she had been dreaming. Or really, having a nightmare.

Once her eyes open, she gasped out something about a Romanov Curse and then burrowed her head into Dmitry’s chest. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up despite being completely drenched from the storm. There was an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’d only ever heard of the Romanov Curse that night at the ball…

Instead of addressing this, he reassured Anya that it was just a nightmare and that she was safe. He tried not to think about how his heart sang at having her in his arms, safe and alive.

* * *

It was the Dowager Empress that finally put all the puzzle pieces together. She recognized him immediately as the boy that helped them escape. She seemed to also know why he refused the reward money. It’s her final question, however, that stuck with him.

“After the life you’ve had, most would assume you’d have taken the money and run. How is it that a kitchen boy doesn’t feel the same deep hatred the rest of the people did toward my son and his family?”

Dmitry…hadn’t quite thought of it like that. He knew his father was taken because he spoke out against the Tsar. He also knew that he struggled on the streets before going to work for the same man that was responsible for his father’s death. He also knew that the Tsar and his family had everything they could have ever wanted, before, while most of Russia suffered.

So why was he seemingly immune towards the hatred most held towards the Romanov’s and by extension…Anya?

He chose not to answer the Dowager and dismissed himself.

Unfortunately, he ran into Anya – No. Anastasia. – on his way out. She was dressed in a magnificent ball gown, diamond kokoshnik glittering on top of her strawberry blond locks. How was it that Anya managed to look just as regal on board of the Tasha in the blue dress he bought for her, as Anastasia looked right now?

His heart throbbed with the knowledge that his mind has won this battle and he walked away from her.

* * *

When his heart finally won out – his mind consenting that he had been so wrong – he went to find her. He hadn’t really expected to have to fight off a magical demon horse and a dead? Rasputin, armed with more glowing demon things.

But then again, nothing in his life was ever simple or normal. If it had been, he’d have ten million rubles in his pocket and he’d be on his way to London.

He almost died, and perhaps still could, if the pain in his ribs was anything to go off of. But then Anya is Anya and she was looking at him like somehow he was the glittering diamond kokoshnik and not a bruised and bloody commoner.

It was such a shame Pooka had to go and ruin their moment with the actual Crown Jewels.

Dmitry was not prepared for Anya to choose him over the title and crown and power. He wasn’t sure his damaged heart had anything left to designate towards hoping. For too long, his mind had convinced it that Anya would leave and he would be alone again, forced to return to life as a conman.

Then they’re laid out on the bed in their room, having just eloped. Anya jokingly quipped, “Well. I guess you’re the one person that’s impervious to the Romanov Curse.” It might have been funny, had they not almost died several times over the course of their journey.

“I’m not sure I follow you, Anya. I mean. I wasn’t the one attacked by the demon guy.”

“No, that’s true.” She conceded. “But never once did you turn against me. I’ve always felt so safe with you. I never had that before. So what is it that makes you so special?”

When he thought on her words, he couldn’t help but realize the truth behind them. Even Vlad, who would never harm a hair on Anya, had his own gripes and bitterness towards the Tsar and his family. Holdovers from no longer being a count, Dmitry had figured. But what if it was from this so-called Romanov Curse?

“Uhhhh. Nothing?” But she was right. Anya might’ve driven him nuts, but he never for one second directed his anger at the world towards her or even her family.

Anya giggled and then straddled his lap. Dmitry’s hands immediately went to her waist to steady her.

“Oh Dmitry. That heart of yours is too pure for this world. How did I ever deserve you?”

Instead of answering her question – which was a ridiculous one at that – Dmitry reached up to pull her face towards his, kissing away the conversation.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok but like. To make sure I wasn't crazy, I rewatched the boat/nightmare scene of the 1997 movie and sure enough, Rasputin's little glowing demon things approach Dmitry. Now, you can say that they were only looking for Anya all you want, but I'm convinced that his magic would do whatever it took to kill the Romanovs. Meaning...if Rasputin really wanted to finish off Anya, he'd have possessed Dmitry like his magic did with the Russian people at the beginning of the film and Anya would be dead. 
> 
> MY POINT: Dmitry loves Anastasia/Anya so much that demon magic doesn't work on him. 
> 
> Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Comment if you'd like!
> 
> 💛💛💛


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